


Drabbles for middle earth

by CopicsForNameless



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Consort Bilbo Baggins, Dwarves in the Shire, Other, Retirement, shire - Freeform, traveling au, wandering au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:59:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopicsForNameless/pseuds/CopicsForNameless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a bunch of short stories I randomly write. I'll update this from time to time. Tags will update as I go on.<br/>Chapter one: Wandering au<br/>Chapter two: Consort au<br/>Chapter three: Shire au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weary Toes

**Author's Note:**

> This first one is a bit of a traveling story, where Bilbo goes wandering. There is some angst, but a mostly happy ending.

It’s then, after the battle that Bilbo leaves. He would have left sooner, but knew he would be living with an ever there guilt, and regret had he not said goodbye. The company of thirteen dwarves despite their best efforts to make him stay, can't. Though some asked with fewer words then others, they had all tried in their own ways. If some of the dwarfs stopped sooner then others it was out of equal amounts of fear and respect for bilbo’s wishes, and may it never be said that their hobbit was not greatly missed by every single dwarf. They had managed to delay Bilbo, but that achievement was a hollow one in the pits of their stomach as they watched their friend leave. Some of the same dwarfs who pleaded for his presence in Erebor with little to no words, could not even bring themselves to see bilbo off. 

He leaves with a caravan within those first few weeks. Not long After the dead have been buried and too soon into rebuilding for any of his original company to accompany him. 

Of course he goes to the shire, he has to. after all, the shire is his home. But his home is near empty, far too quiet, and altogether disappointing. Its still pleasant this time of year, but its pleasantries cannot touch him. He finds himself filtering around the shire almost aimlessly. That same caravan that had seen him through many hardships through their travels seems to follow him. Dallying almost purposefully. So he turns to his friends, because friends they have become. and confesses he is not quite ready to meet the end of his adventure. what else are they to do, then to offer him a smile and ask for him to accompany them to Ered Luin. 

The roads and days are both long. They stretch on almost unendingly as he travels further away from home. Still they are bot entirely unpleasant as they are spent in the company of dwarves he has come to call friends.

but fore all his long days, he comes to find them worth it. As he now finally sees those halls he once heard of. Bilbo gets to walk along them and is soon thinking back fondly on his old friends. His mind turns to a different mountain and its inhabitants inside it, with newfound respect and another emotion he would rather not admit to. What he will do next is not a hard decision in the least.

Bilbo continues his travels with his friends. 

For all his trouble of traveling still, Bilbo finds himself rewarded. He and the smaller subgroup of dwarves are finding more in common. They become nearly the closest of travellers on their way back to Erebor. Second only in bilbo’s mind to a band of thirteen misfitting dwarves. The road is again long, but this is nothing new. No in truth it is an altogether familiar road, and the adventure it brings has almost staled. Still there are adventures to be had, and the small group will indeed have them. Taking in any new experiences they may find gladly. But mostly their time is spent chattering about anything that suits their fancy. And should they talk of far off places and unknown languages and newness in general then let it be known they do it only to pass the time. 

The tight knit group of friends among the many dwarves traveling home trade stories. but as they do, the story telling always excludes some things that their littlest member probably should have told. Bilbo has no time to worry or or stress over withholding truths, though as he has something else perfectly good to worry over. 

Because all the same they reach dale. The nearly two years time since Bilbo has last seen it had done it a world if good. it breaths and buzzes like a hive around him, the people and scattered dwarfs working to rebuild it are like bees. He is so near, so breathtakingly close to his old friends that he could probably make out some of their bootprints if he really tried. His mind filters to all his friends, and of course bilbo misses them. He misses their chatter and energy and while his days aren’t quiet they aren’t as full as they could be. The dwarves he has come to know are dear, but different. And bilbo finds himself torn, wishing for both. But wishing aside he is still not ready yet.

He stays behind in Dale as the dwarves travel to their home for the first time. A small and bitter part of Bilbo is envious of them. A few of his closest friends from the original caravan and the trip back to Erebor stay with him. This is where he for the first time since he traveled with the company of thirteen dwarfs recalls some of the events of his adventure. while the new dwarfs had always expected him to be the hobbit, THAT hobbit, they had tried their hand at being respectful and never pressed. So when the hobbit begins gnawing on his lip at the not quite end of his tale they do not push. Words that are bitten back should not be forced out.

It's Nori that finds the group, and as eager as he is to tell his brothers their hobbit has returned to them, he recalls the hobbits scared face. So he finds himself in Erebor in front of his brothers saying nothing of the nature. It perhaps is more along the lines of 'I am going on an adventure!' Though again not quite. 

So he travels with the familiar hobbit, the dwarves Bilbo has come to known, and stranger humans along from Dale. Nori is Never really sure what possessed him to make the trip, or to tell an almost untruthful thing to his brothers. But he has his ideas. Perhaps it was discontent of the quieting life in Erebor, maybe longing for a new adventure, possibly guilt for not travelling with Bilbo those years back, but more likely to insure his old friend who had done so much could make it to wherever he was going safely. All the same Nori found himself enjoying it despite never really expecting to.

Bilbo is exasperated as he listens to the whispers and rumours that makes something of assassins and something of thieves of his friends. While all rumours are hold some truth the friends are not entirely either. Though it is begrudgingly Bilbo can see where the rumour comes from, since Maybe if he was being entirely truthful they had developed the antics of both somewhere along the way. His friends ha learned to come and go without making anyone the wiser, and their fingers are still dangerously light if the need should so arise, they are even dangerous in all their skill. For the most part they don’t steal, only take lives if It should mean their own otherwise, and there is no mention of contracts for hire. It's too evident that Bilbo has become wary of them, try as he may to conceal the notion. Just the one had been far to many for the smallest member. So, again, not quite either title fits.

Instead they just travel. As Bilbo and the original caravan dwarves had mused over all that time ago. Language is important to most of them. certainly it is important to Bilbo, and sometimes when he begins to miss others far away it is only that notion that keeps his feet moving ever forward. After all he can always fit in a new language to begin. they choose to learn in at least pairs if not more, as to always be understood by someone. In this and every other sense they are never alone. Which is perhaps a gift in Bilbo’s eyes. Who may or may not have benefited from this the most. 

Never alone. They each become both protégé and professor. What else can be expected of these friends, who either traveled for the notion of far off knowledge, or to keep their friends safe. Each member has their own weaknesses and strengths and bring these to the group. Strengthening it with their own differentiating skill sets. 

Each member has their own interests too which are as respected as they are mocked, that is greatly of course. The mock scoldings and jeering have just come to be how the group of friends show their appreciation. Though one star haired dwarf can almost distinctly remember a hobbit doing much more of it before, on a journey they shared with thirteen other dwarves. 

those who wish to learn, learn plenty. because as Bilbo finds there is plenty to learn in middle earth. Its not an enforced rule to have a thirst for knowledge, but so long as they should want for it that knowledge seems serves to connect them the same way it draws them apart from outsiders. 

The nameless group is almost detached from reality. Most who hear what little they do of the group find them exotic and thrilling but still mostly unknown. They pass by, speaking in tongues native to wherever they are. The smallest one member speaking in a hushed tone and unfamiliar language to another, who will pass the words on to someone else in the same hushed tone and a different language.

And somewhere along the way they probably become some of the most dangerous scholars known to walk Middle Earth. Bilbo generally chortles when he hears that title. Its not so bad of one as the others have been. Though they are mostly only known in the sense that they have come and gone, without anyone ever really knowing it. Sometimes Bilbo would even go so far as to muse over what they were becoming. Perhaps they may become something like stories along the way. Fables that were as interesting as they were enriched in mystery. perhaps Bilbo spread around a few rumours of his own. 

Time passes by, and perhaps nearly two years is too much for some the same way it is not enough for others. 

Some withheld truths are too painful and are not ready to be told. In the same way that some almost untruths are too regretted and have to be.

So it was in this way that Nori is the first to return to Erebor. 

But it doesn't take long for others to leave after that.

It began with the humans, the rest of the dwarfs following at their heals. But soon Bilbo found himself saying goodbye to his last companions. Kind hearted elves who could not bare to see him off to his lonesome at first, but then cannot bare to be so far from any familiarities. All in a matter of months the small group of fables scatter apart. Taking with them all their strengths and the company that seemed to warm Bilbo’s days in the same way they filled them with energy.

Still he is a stubborn hobbit. And presses on. Until he finds himself far too alone, and the days are much to quiet, and he is homesick. 

It had been this way for a year, quiet and lonely and suffocating. Bilbo’s days have been filled with nothing but the hollow feeling that made a home in the pit of his stomach. A feeling that had developed when he had to wish each of his friends a fond farewell, and grew painfully with each new instalment of goodbyes. 

Now thinking about it, that feeling had started just shy of five years ago. When he first said goodbye to his dear friends. Perhaps good company had lessened it but never stayed it.

Sure his wandering had still been filled with knowledge. And roads are never completely walked alone. Yet Bilbo feels lonesome. His feet are tired and his mind is filled. 

Filled or not, Maybe he could learn to be a little less of a stubborn Hobbit. After all out of all the things he had learned surely it would not be the most difficult. And there was a great deal of things one could learn in middle earth.


	2. of Nimble Fingers and Sound Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Erebor au that treats the dwarves of Erebor a little bit more like the Hobbit fandom on tumblr.

A Bilbo who, after marrying Thorin and successfully landing the position of Consort, hobbit, and gardener under the mountain, all in one; stumbles onto a strange bit of writing. By strange he means it follows a plumb little thing with bare feet. The dwarves of Erebor are writing about a hobbit! And one he knows quite well, at least he’s seen the hobbit in the mirror enough times to know him well enough.

The dwarves are writing about him. Which would have been mind numbing enough without the added little twist they put in. Because in the couple paragraphs he found randomly, he died. 

This isn’t good, no not at all. Its dangerous! Drastic! frightening in every way, and worrying in many others. It’s a threat, a slight on his life and one he can’t bring to his husband. Bilbo can’t bring it to Thorin because he knows that dwarf too well.

Thorin can handle many things with grace; his nephews’ pranks, open court, the many dreary dinner parties, his sister’s and company’s teasing. many things. Some issues are harder to handle for the king; slights against his sense of direction, (it was just that once!) those who question his nephews’ marriage choices, those who question his sister’s joint rule, and above all threats on those he loves. Thorin doesn’t explode; not outwardly, but his planning skills do suffer when it comes to any of those issues. 

So Bilbo, being so quiet and able to go unnoticed if he pleases; finds a way into this little organization. After months of gaining trust through notes and the like he is rewarded with his first bit of information.

He’s given a slip of paper with a location and time scribbled neatly onto it and it’s there, in the overcrowded street that he waits impatiently. Likely from here he will be lead to the actual location. Instead there is a weight in his hand, and minutes later when he actually realizes it he sees a worn leather-back in his hand, as if it had some right to be there. That is to say; the first thing he finds is that it’s all done anonymously. The drawback sits bitterly at the back of his mind. He needs to know who these dwarves are after all and how should he do that if he doesn’t see their faces? If he doesn’t even realize when they pass him!

Right. Bilbo Baggins will do this in the Baggins way; he already narrowed down his searches too anyone suspicious, and he’s kept a close eye on these dwarves. He’s bound to recognize their hand writing. So for the first time since finding out about this all he open up a story. Then another. Before he knows it he’s read his way through the entity of the organization’s stories. But he needs more like he needs second breakfast and elevenses. That is- he needs to make sure he’s prepared for anything! 

Bilbo finds himself asking around in this little group. Has now succumb to begging for paragraphs, quick glimpses, ideas even! Honestly he’d say his standards had dropped if these small snippets weren’t some of the best things he’s ever read. Rivalled only by their finished counterparts. Then finally;

Well, write one yourself if you’re so eager! you dolt.

huh. By the time he’s written his first story he realizes it was never a threat. At least not on his physical health; Bilbo certainly found himself questioning his mental health from time too time. By the time he’s written his fifth he no longer cares. Bilbo Baggins knows what it is to be a consort, but now he also knows what it is to be a king. They adore his stories. Apparently his characterizations are spot on, and his quest au’s are almost believable. The other club members beg him too stop in the same breath that they plead him to go on. This is the most fun he’s had in writing in a long while and he’s not about to give that up. 

perhaps there is something to be said to killing yourself off in fiction, and the functioning of your own mind. Because one night he forgets a copy laying about, one of a story his favourite author had finished just days before. Of course Thorin picks it up, leafs through, and instantly freezes over. This- this threat- had found it’s way into their chambers. Someone was in their chambers at some point- and was promising to harm Bilbo.

Bilbo Baggins may be an author, but he had no clue how he was going to write this off as “yep! Dear that is just some good fun. No harm meant… it’s… you’ll laugh Thorin, because I am sure I thought the same as you are now, and it’s quiet funny…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always feel free to say anything


	3. Retire to the Rolling Hills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was another story written for my writing class, It came with the writing prompt of a retired ruler thinking over their actions. I never really got to the thinking over actions part.

Grassy hills and green gardens lined all sides of the roads. It was a right wonder that the fussy inhabitants of these lands could make it anywhere on time; what with it looking all identical. With an exasperated groan the lost man turned back, now attempting to retrace his steps.

***

“You’re late” came a call from somewhere deeper in his home. To Thorin’s discontent it border-lined smug. 

“I am no longer king, and if my retirement means anything, it will at least mean I no longer must live my life to a schedule.” He huffed, sinking into his armchair. “you are aware that is what retirement means; aren't you?” Thorin called back towards the kitchen where the voice was most likely coming from. 

“Yes, well be that as it may, Thorin, I am also aware that you being three hours late means you were lost again.” The fussy little man stated, as he ambled into the room. He was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits that should have long been gone two hours ago. “I do have a solution to your problem. you know, I would be happy to serve as a guide for you.” Bilbo pressed the Mid-Afternoon tea (now Pre-Dinner.) into Thorin's hands, and set the trey beside them as he settled into his own seat.

“Ah well, I have a solution as well. We could visit Erebor. I am merely retired, not shunned.” Thorin practically pouted, now undignified. 

“We very well could visit your nephews. But can I be all too sure you will not lean over his shoulder, over-looking his every decision?” Bilbo asked, gazing into his tea as he blew into it. The smallest of smiles played over his lips, although he likely tried not to smile for the dwarf’s sake.

“I do not doubt them.” Thorin huffed once more.

“Mhmm, no you do not.”

“Fili and Kili rule well together.”

“That they do. Certainly more so with all of your guidance.” He agreed.

“It’s just- they are young! yes incredibly young hardly grown into their beards.” Thorin finally exclaimed, and if he was gesticulating a tad theatrically Bilbo made a point of drawing no attention too it.

“Their mother is there to oversee them.” Bilbo pointed out calmly. Now taking his first sip of lukewarm tea.

“So she is. But Dis deserves a break.” Thorn reasoned. He wasn’t about to admit to it, but now that he was under Bilbo’s sharp gaze, and with the hobbit speaking in such a calm voice, Thorin was beginning to fidget.

“Do you not as well?” 

“I never said-“

“But that is what you mean, isn't it? Now if you don’t mind me asking, why is it that the entirety of your family deserves a break, excluding, of course, yourself?” Bilbo pressed. His voice now taking on that calculating tone that meant he would discover, and take nothing less then the truth.

Thorin, for a minute was at a loss for words, and he wasn’t able to form any as the minutes continued to pass, either. After a while Bilbo blew out a soft breath, and rose with his finished snack. Walking over, he pressed a light kiss to his dwarf's brow. “Why don’t you think on it? you might find things easier to manage if you can pin-point the source of these feelings.” Tidying up he moved towards the kitchen, only stopping to say, “I’m always here to talk Thorin. Should you have need or want for it.”

**Author's Note:**

> as with all my writing feel free to say anything you please


End file.
